With an unnatural smile on my face, and an awful, sick feeling in my stomach, I glided gracefully down the staircase, with its wide banister decorated with small stone pots housing bonsai trees. I went through the glass doors and followed the black stone path edged in lively green until reaching my mother's Japanese garden full of tranquil ponds, bonsai trees, tall, graceful trees, trickling fountains, and a small stream cutting through the whole thing, giving it a peaceful, natural appearance. My husband-to-be was not there yet, but the guests were. My mother was standing proudly under a swag of red rice paper lanterns shaped like dragons. It was sunset, and nightfall was coming. Mother struck a match on one of her bonsai pots, and used it to light the candlewicks. The soft orange glow illuminated the lanterns, and even my breath was taken at the beauty of it. It was muggy outside, and I slipped off my sandals and waded into the stream. Someone came up the guest's path, barefoot and wearing tattered robes. When I saw his face, I nearly fainted. It was my one and only love. Then, at exactly terrible timing, the Korean man I was about to marry came through the glass doors. I had a strange feeling in my stomach the one you get when you are about to vomit. Then everything went fuzzy and I fell over.

I felt cool stream water on my face. Three pairs of eyes were hovering over my face. I felt sick again. I turned from the two pairs of eyes so dark the pupils were barely visible, and the pair of eyes that were brilliant emerald. I sat up. The eyes moved back a few feet. I nearly kissed him, but caught myself- the second pair of dark eyes belonged to a man I had never seen before, who was, presumably, the Korean husband. He looked somewhat mean, or maybe it was just the fact that my true love was standing next to him. "I cannot marry you," I said in quick Japanese. He did not understand me, but what the heck. I said it! I splashed over playfully towards him.